


forgott my name

by bazookajo94



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Exy (All For The Game), Depression, Diners, It just takes a while, M/M, Sad!neil, Scars, Schitt's Creek AU, Slow Burn, Small Towns, a sweaty neil josten, canon torture of neil, don't worry andrew still falls helplessly in love, don't worry neil is still sassy, handyman!neil, i make him do manual labor jobs around town, inordinate amount of the same schitty pun in every chapter, it's what we deserve, joyless!andrew, seth is alive?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24593032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bazookajo94/pseuds/bazookajo94
Summary: “It’s hilarious, right? It sounds like the type of town a rich dad would buy for his bitch son.”“I’m the rich dad!” one of the patrons—a girl, sunglasses pushing her blonde hair out of her face, tight clothes—shouted to Nicky.“I’m the bitch son!” a voice called from the kitchen. Everyone except Neil laughed.--A fic with no exy, so Neil doesn’t have anything to hold onto when he’s finally too tired to keep running. He stumbles across a town so hidden from anything important that Neil thinks maybe he could stay a while and be safe, but as much as Neil just wants to lie down and sleep, the town and its inhabitants won’t let him do anything except live.[do not need to be familiar with Schitt’s Creek to enjoy this fic; it only shares the name of the town and its vibe]
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 11
Kudos: 111





	1. welcome

**Author's Note:**

> there are only three things in my life right now i care about: aftg, schitt's creek, and little misfortune. i thought it might be nice if neil could have a break for a while and go to schitt's creek. unfortunately, there are No Breaks for neil josten. 
> 
> i don't usually write multi-chapter fics. this is the longest fanfic i've ever written in my life. i'm still working on it. right now it has 8 chapters and i'll post the first three and then one chapter a week until it's done, and then i'll mass upload the rest. 
> 
> no knowledge of Schitt's Creek is necessary for this fic. I will throw in some references for people In The Know, but there are no characters from the show here. I'm literally only stealing the setting (and doesn't Andrew make the most perfect Stevie?). 
> 
> i hope this fic finds you in good health. i hope it makes you feel good and bad and sad and happy. i want to get passed the first couple of chapters so that neil can enjoy his time in town without everyone trying to pick a fight with him, so bear with me. 
> 
> i did my best with andrew, but don't we all do our best with andrew?

Maybe it was the billboard. Maybe it was his aimless wandering on the dirty-ditch road for half the night and even then he still hadn’t realized there was an actual town hidden in the trees until he saw the sad flickering of one lone street light. Maybe it was that he was so tired, that he couldn’t remember ever being this tired in such a long time and he just wanted to stop.

But probably it was the name.

* * *

Neil Josten walked into the lobby of the motel and paused. He wasn’t sure if anyone was going to be at the front desk with it being so late (or rather, early) and the lights not on, but when he tried the doorknob it opened and he figured that if he couldn’t get a room he could sleep in the lobby.

But someone was sitting at the front desk, a blonde man with bored hazel eyes and black arm bands stretching from wrist to elbow gazing at absolutely nothing. He wasn’t even looking outside; just stared at the wall in front of him. His gaze flicked to Neil when the door opened, and Neil, unable to hide his sudden apprehension, froze. They stared at each other until the motel staff broke eye contact and returned to staring at nothing.

“How much for a night?” Neil asked, still standing by the door.

“Twenty.”

“A night?”

The man didn’t reply. Neil had a hard time believing such a cheap price, thinking it must be for a reason, but he’d stayed at worse places. At least he wouldn’t have to break into a car.

Neil finally approached the counter and dug two twenties out of his pocket. He slid the bills across the surface and waited for the man to give him a key. The man met Neil’s gaze again but didn’t move to take the money nor go to the wall of keys behind him.

After a tense two minutes where Neil’s annoyance finally got the better of him, he snapped, “Can I stay here or not?”

“Can you?” the other man replied.

“May I?” Neil mocked. “I don’t need any amenities; just a place to sleep.”

“And shower.”

Neil refused to feel embarrassed about the state of his being. He hadn’t had anywhere to stay for about a week, sleeping outside and unable to find anywhere to bathe. Perhaps that’s why he was so tired. He glared at the man who stared back at him with dull eyes, but he finally reached for Neil’s money and turned to the wall of keys behind him.

He dropped a room key on the counter. “Room seven,” he said.

“Are there do not disturb signs for guests?”

“I thought you didn’t need amenities.”

“I didn’t know privacy was an amenity.”

“In this town it is.”

Neil clutched his bag closer to his body. Perhaps staying here was a bad idea after all, but his money was already gone and he didn’t have much of it left. He didn’t have much of anything left.

Neil nodded, annoyance gone and suddenly so very tired. He picked up the key and started toward the door. “Goodnight,” he offered, because he hadn’t said those words to anyone in a very long time and probably wouldn’t ever again. The man didn’t say anything back.

* * *

Neil woke to the sound of someone talking outside his window. He jolted awake and grappled for a weapon, but after a frantic minute of scrambling and coming up empty, Neil figured if he was too stupid to forget a weapon he was finally stupid enough to die.

Besides, the voice outside wasn’t familiar, so it wasn’t front-desk man. Probably another employee. 

“Are you serious? Someone’s actually _here_?”

No one answered the question.

“Andrew, seriously. Look me in the eye and tell me right now, is someone in that room? Like, if I walked into it, someone would be on that bed?”

No reply.

“Andrew, are you kidding me? Who even finds this place?”

A cart rolled by and the voice faded, never receiving an answer, though Neil received another confirmation that this tiny town was so far off the record even people who lived here acknowledged its rurality.

After a few minutes of enjoying the feel of a lumpy mattress and a scratchy comforter that smelled like smoke and stale food, Neil decided the gnawing in his stomach needed to be appeased, despite his demand for privacy. He just wouldn’t deal with the motel staff and find somewhere decent enough to eat. He'd enjoy one more day of lavishing before heading out again, even with the relative solitude this town afforded Neil.

Besides, Neil didn’t have many places left he could still hide.

After locking the chain and propping a chair under the doorknob to ensure that no one—motel staff or otherwise—would open the door, Neil showered and changed. His clothes were so ratty he felt like one stiff breeze would cause every seam to unravel. Perhaps Neil would buy a few outfits while he was in town, too.

Tucking his duffel bag under his arm, Neil stepped outside of his room. Though he hadn’t heard the voices, the front desk man—Andrew—and the new comer—Hispanic, wavy hair, easy smile—were only a few doors down and noticed him leave.

The newcomer beamed and waved and introduced himself as Nicky, but Neil maintained eye contact with Andrew as he studied Neil, the ratty clothes and his bag under his arm. Returning the unimpressed gaze with a glare of his own, Neil made a show of locking his door even though they both knew everything Neil had wasn’t in his room.

“Are you going to breakfast?” Nicky was asking as Neil ignored him and walked away. “There’s a diner in town that’s pretty good. It’s called Sweetie’s, and I can walk you there, if you’d like? Hey?”

Neil would have kept walking except he heard Andrew drawl, “Can’t you tell he wants some _privacy,_ Nicky?”

Neil stopped. Turned. Glared at Andrew, who did nothing in return. Turned back to Nicky. “I’m fine, thank you.”

Nicky, excited to finally hear Neil speak, grinned wider. “Oh, it’s no trouble! I’m on my way there, anyways. Come on, let me show you the wonders of this Schitt-hole.” Nicky snickered at his joke, and Neil, despite his annoyance, snorted softly.

Nicky became even more emboldened and approached Neil. “I’m Nicky,” he introduced himself again, and Neil took his offered hand.

“Neil.”

“Neil! Welcome to Schitt’s Creek.” And then Neil was steered away from the motel and from Andrew, and Neil couldn’t decide if he was excited or apprehensive, or if he was tired or just lonely.


	2. good one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slow burns are so hard to write even though they're so fun to read. i hate everything. can't they just kiss already?

Nicky prattled the entire walk to Sweetie’s, but he didn’t say anything about Neil’s tight grip on his bag and Neil didn’t say anything to stop Nicky from talking. Neil considered them even.

“Anyways, what made you decide to stop here?” Nicky asked, and Neil couldn’t feign polite interest anymore; he finally had to join in the conversation.

“Um. The name?” Neil said, which was only half a lie, but just telling half the truth made Neil uncomfortable.

Nicky laughed as he opened the door to the diner. There were only two other patrons and one waitress at the counter, who smiled politely at their entrance. Neil heard soft clattering in the kitchen and assumed a chef was here as well.

“It’s hilarious, right? It sounds like the type of town a rich dad would buy for his bitch son.”

“I’m the rich dad!” one of the patrons—a girl, sunglasses pushing her blonde hair out of her face, tight clothes—shouted to Nicky.

“I’m the bitch son!” a voice called from the kitchen. Everyone except Neil laughed.

“Come sit, come sit,” Nicky ushered Neil to the bar, sitting them on the stool by the waitress.

“Renee, this is Neil, he’s new in town, and he’s here for the special.”

“Nicky, there are no specials here,” the “rich dad” from the other table said.

Nicky, affronted, clutched at his chest. “I thought _I_ was the special here?”

Collectively, the entire diner rolled their eyes (except Neil, though he thought about it).

Renee smiled down at Neil. “Eggs and bacon?” He nodded, and Renee smiled once more before moving to the window and telling the chef what Neil ordered.

Nicky continued on prattling about the town, which then segued to Nicky’s job, which then segued to his boyfriend, which then segued to Andrew being his cousin, which then segued to—

“Good luck with that one, new guy,” rich dad chimed in again. “Everyone who stays at the motel either leaves after ten hours or with a stab wound.”

Neil turned to face her, brow raised. “Stab wound?”

“Didn’t you see the knives?” Were there knives?

“I didn’t see much of anything. I checked in around three in the morning.”

“What were you doing there so early?” Nicky asked, but he didn’t seem invested in the answer—more polite curiosity—so Neil relaxed his shoulders. But when he looked up, he met Renee’s gaze, oddly intense, oddly knowing, and he looked away, whole body tense. He needed to leave.

He dug some bills out of his wallet and tossed them on the counter. “Thanks for bringing me here, Nicky. I’m heading back.”

“Wait! Neil, this is way too much! And my breakfast! Ack—” Nicky scrambled to shove large bites of his biscuits and gravy in his mouth and hopped to follow Neil out the door. “Neil, seriously, wait! Are you worried about what Allison said about Andrew? He’s not really a bad guy! Just kind of scary. And intense. And he has a lot of knives. But, you know, it’s twenty-twenty, so who _doesn’t_ have a lot of knives, you know? Neil, wait!”

“I’m not worried about Andrew,” Neil said as soon as Nicky caught up to him on their walk back to the motel. 

“You’re not? I mean, of course you’re not! You didn’t even see the knives! Well, what are you doing the rest of the day?”

“Sleeping.”

Nicky looked more offended about Neil sleeping than he did about not being the “special” at the restaurant. “Neil, you can’t go on vacation and just _sleep._ ”

“I can’t?”

“Didn’t you come here for a reason?”

“I came here for the billboard.”

Another shocked laugh from Nicky. “It’s horrendous, right?”

“It’s something.”

“Schitty, some might even say.” And then Nicky laughed and laughed, and Neil left him standing there on the front lawn of the motel, but he couldn’t help his small smile.

* * *

After a quick nap, Neil decided that perhaps Nicky was partially right that Neil couldn’t spend his “vacation” sleeping.

So he decided to go for a run. After changing into his running clothes—his only outfit not ripped to shreds—and, with nowhere else to put it, brought his bag with him as he took a few laps around town, familiarizing himself with the alleys and streets and stop lights and mile signs to towns tens of miles from here.

He really was out in the middle of nowhere.

Neil eventually pushed himself to go back to his room, his bag an awkward weight on his hip. Upon his return, aching to shower, Neil noticed that his bed had been made and his towels removed from his room. The sight of his ransacked room made him uncomfortable, and Neil was glad he brought his bag with him. Still holding it close, he left his room and went to the lobby.

Andrew was at the front desk again, once more staring at absolutely nothing. He didn’t look tired, considering he had the graveyard shift and the day shift. Once Neil stepped up to the counter, Andrew directed his gaze to Neil.

“Thought you ran off,” Andrew intoned, sliding his hooded gaze to study Neil.

Neil felt irked by the expression and the question. “I paid for two nights.”

Andrew glanced at the line of sweat on Neil’s shirt from the strap of his bag. “You always bring your bag everywhere with you?”

“You always go through guests' rooms as soon as they leave?”

“It’s my job.”

Neil huffed. “Then do it. I need more towels.”

Andrew didn’t reply, and Neil didn’t push. They both stared at each other in silence until Nicky opened the door. Neil jumped. How long had they been standing there?

“Whoa, Neil, whoa, did you go running? Gotta say, it’s a good look for you,” Nicky whistled, giving Neil’s body a once over that made him instantly on edge.

“I thought you had a boyfriend?” Neil said hesitantly, wishing he had left after he spoke to Andrew.

“Yeah, but I also have eyes? Yeesh, some people, right, Andrew?”

Instead of saying anything, Andrew disappeared into the staff area. He returned with a towel that he threw at Neil’s face.

Neil shot Andrew a scathing look. Nicky _eep_ -ed. “Andrew! Customer service! Neil is one of the good ones.”

“Is he?” Andrew countered, cocking his head at Neil.

Once again, Neil’s annoyance got the better of him and he shot out before he could stop himself, “So, what? You stab the bad ones?”

Nicky _eep_ -ed again, louder this time. If Andrew was surprised by Neil’s outburst, he didn’t show it. “All in good time,” was all he said, and then slid his attention to the wall again, done with the conversation.

Well, Neil was done, too. Without a glance at either boy, Neil returned to his room.

_Just one more night,_ he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you believe this schitt? hahahahh


	3. open mic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if y'all been to a small town, y'all know what it's like. sometimes it do be like this tho

Someone knocked on Neil’s door. Neil still grappled for a weapon he didn’t have and cursed how stupid he had become. His mom had only been dead four years, and somehow Neil felt like one night in town had made him forget everything she had taught him. He went to the window and gently pushed aside the curtain, expecting someone big and burly and ready to kill him and saw Nicky instead.

Neil opened his door. “I already had dinner,” he said without preamble, and Nicky took a step back.

“Oh! Well, okay! Though that’s not why I’m here. I still think it’s just a little too depressing that you’re here to sleep. Was thinking you might want to go out with me?” Nicky seemed nervous, and Neil couldn’t fathom why anyone would be so friendly with someone they just met, but he didn’t want to think about it very long. As much as Neil wanted to leave town, he found himself wanting to stay as well, maybe not specifically in Schitt’s Creek but _somewhere_. Neil had been alone for so long, and the longer he slept in a bed, the harder it became for him to get out of it.

Neil stared at Nicky and thought about living—how he was alive for so long because he wasn’t stupid (despite his lack of weapon in this shitty motel)—and readied to tell Nicky no, but the whiff of cigarette smoke drew Neil’s attention. He found Andrew propped against the vending machine, cigarette in mouth, staring as Nicky asked Neil out.

And even though he looked as bored as he always did, Neil knew that Andrew was waiting for him to say no, and suddenly Neil was tired of living, of surviving, tired of smelling smoke and thinking of his mother, even though she’d been dead for so long he’d forgotten what her face looked like, no pictures to mourn, no fond memories to recall.

So even though it was the dumbest mistake of his soon to be short life, Neil turned back to Nicky and nodded. Nicky clapped and rejoiced, but Neil didn’t hear anything he said about tonight’s plans. “Just give me a minute,” he said tonelessly, and then went to find a place to hide his bag.

He settled on shimmying out the bathroom window and partially burying it two windows down. He dirtied one of his sweaters and placed it on top of the rest of the bag not buried and hoped that it looked like uninteresting garbage so no one would pick it up. Everything in Neil screamed to not leave his bag out in the open, but if he brought it with him tonight he knew that Andrew’s curiosity would be too much if it wasn’t already, and he’d find Neil’s bag before the night was through.

After shimmying back through the window and checking his hair dye and brown eyes, Neil went back to the front door and readied to leave with Nicky.

“No Andrew?” Neil asked when he noticed the man was gone, smoldering butt in the grass, and Nicky shook his head.

“He’s going to Elmdale with Kevin and Aaron.” As if Neil was supposed to know these names. He nodded like he did.

“And what are we doing?”

Nicky beamed. “Open mic night!”

And, damn him straight to hell for not, Neil almost turned around right then.

* * *

It felt like the whole town had crammed itself into the general store that night. Neil was forced to sit next to Nicky and “rich dad,” who he now knew was Allison, as they drunkenly cheered on whoever was at the mic.

“Are you sure you don’t want a drink?” Nicky slurred for the third time that evening.

“I’m fine. I don’t like drinking.”

“A shame!” Nicky chanted, and a few people around him joined in.

Neil didn’t know much about open mics or going out in general, but by the end of the night he had met a multitude of people—Allison’s companion this morning, Matt; the chef at the diner, Seth; and ominous mentions of a boy named Kevin who should have been at the open mic but had gone to Elmdale at Andrew’s sudden demand to leave.

“Boy never does anything on his own,” someone said to Neil.

“Who, Andrew?” he asked, and the person shook their head.

“ _Kevin,_ Neil. _Kevin_ can’t go anywhere without his little guard dog.”

And then they turned away and Neil didn’t care anymore. He needed to leave this town before anyone else told him another name he would have to remember.

* * *

Nicky offered to walk him back to the motel—“I’ll be your designated walker! DW! DW, Neil!”—but Neil shook his head and brushed off Nicky’s sweaty hug and wished he had stayed in bed after all.

He was so tired.

After a few blocks of flinching at shadows but waiting for an attack, someone started to follow Neil, and they were being obvious about it.

Neil turned immediately and found an older man with a seemingly permanent scowl etched on his face and tribal tattoos on his arms, and he was staring at Neil with an unimpressed expression.

“Staying at the motel?” he gruffed, but Neil didn’t reply. He didn’t recognize the man, so he hoped this was another townie, but he didn’t relax and didn’t turn his back.

The man continued. “Andrew told me you came in around three in the morning.”

Of-fucking-course. Neil glared, no longer hesitant. “And why would Andrew tell some random man my whereabouts?”

“When the random man happens to be the mayor.”

“Mayor? Of this shit hole?”

“Schitt’s Creek.”

“I didn’t know mayors kept tabs on guests.”

“He does when they check in at three in the morning and pay in cash. What’s your name, kid?”

Neil didn’t answer. He thought about arguing about how paying forty dollars in cash wasn’t much to raise a red flag, but apparently his flag was raised the minute he spoke with Andrew, who for some reason held unnatural sway over this town and everyone in it.

“Are you going to turn me in?” Neil asked, because the mayor wouldn’t stop looking at him even when Neil refused to give up his name.

“Are you going to cause trouble?”

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” Neil lied. He would leave tonight, despite the ache in his bones.

The mayor considered Neil some more before saying, “I need help with a fence.”

“So hire someone.”

“I am.”

Neil suddenly hated this town. “I’m leaving tomorrow,” he said again, ignoring how hollow his voice sounded.

“It’s just one fence, and no one in this town knows what the fuck they’re doing.”

“And you think I do?”

“I think you need something to do, and I need a fence repaired.”

“I don’t need anything.”

“Help me with the fence and I won’t call the police as soon as you return to the motel.”

Neil glared at the mayor, but the man just folded his arms, impassive and waiting.

“Fine,” Neil ground out, and then turned to continue his walk back to the motel. He had every intention of leaving, hoping he’d be able to hide in the desolate landscape long enough to elude any cops the mayor called after him, but when he spotted the motel, he saw Andrew straddling a chair backwards in front of Neil’s room, a cigarette dangling from his fingers.

Neil _really_ hated this town. “Babysitting duty, too?” he sneered as soon as he was close enough to see Andrew’s eyes.

“Mayor says jump and we say how high.”

“I hate you,” Neil said, using his shaking hands to unlock his door.

“Should have left when you had the chance.” Andrew’s voice sounded mocking, and Neil hated how that was the first hint of emotion he detected from Andrew.

“All in good time,” Neil shot back, and then slammed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why my boi so madt. thank you for reading this far if you did. this fic takes a while, and it's killing me.


End file.
